


Rocking The Christmas Tree

by EllanaSan



Series: Hayffie Advent Calendar 2020 [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Party, Crack, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27775888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: The joking quip about not paying attention was already on his lips when the tree, who clearly had a mind of its own, finally decided it was done looking horrible for everyone to gawk at.It fell in a deafening noise of shattering glass ornaments.
Relationships: Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket
Series: Hayffie Advent Calendar 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031940
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37
Collections: Hayffie Christmas Stories





	Rocking The Christmas Tree

**Author's Note:**

> It’s Hayffie Christmas Advent Calendar time! This will be a collection of 21 one-shot winter/Christmas themed! I will update every day (except Sunday 6th and Fridays that are dedicated chaptered stories day) The prompts I selected at random with a number generator from lists that have been reblogged on the-hayffie-penthouse blog. Hope you enjoy! As always I would love to know your thoughts!
> 
> • Prompt : “I tried so hard to meet you under the mistletoe that I knocked over the Christmas tree and now everyone at the party is staring at me” AU

The only reason Haymitch had agreed to go to this Christmas party was because Effie had bribed him with a box of high quality chocolate stuffed with liquor.

And maybe because, for all his grumbling, he rarely said no when she really needed something. They had been friends a long time now, sometimes-more-than-friends a little less longer than that, it wasn’t the first time he posed as her boyfriend. _Hell_ , he had filled in the boyfriend’s role so much the past few years for various weddings, business parties and family events that her friends and family probably thought they were long-term.

And none of them liked it, Haymitch mused, nursing his third - and _last_ if he didn’t want to lose the plot – drink of the evening. He had taken position next to the fireplace decked in red and white with ridiculously huge white stockings. He was awkwardly standing there alone, Effie having been whisked away by her sister almost as soon as they had stepped through the door. He could see her now, a polite but entirely fake smile on her cherry-red painted lips, nodding at whatever the group of people in expensive gowns and suits were discussing…

He hated being dragged to her family’s events more than he minded playing her date for friends’ weddings and business get-togethers. Her family had a way of making her… _less_. Or maybe not _less_ because nobody could ever do that. She was bigger than life. It was what had caught his attention in the first place and had made it impossible for him to dismiss her like he had done with most of his past affairs. Effie Trinket could _never_ be dismissed. She was a hurricane of bright colors and high-pitched laughter and of unwavering joy that wouldn’t be chipped away by his natural gloominess and pessimism. She was stubborn and feisty and so _fucking_ smart despite the doll act she insisted on pulling… 

But every time they found themselves faced with her family he had to watch her make herself smaller, her colors slightly dimmed, her natural exuberance curbed into something that fitted better in the box her mother wanted her to check… He _hated_ it. Her parents were so full of themselves, so sure of their superiority… Even her sister, genuinely kind as she was, was a snob. And they all shook their head at her for not being what they wanted her to be. And they all sneered at him for being _exactly_ what they didn’t want for her. 

She was so much better than them.

Than _the lot_ of them, really. Because there wasn’t one single person in that room who didn’t live in a mansion on a hill or knew what it was to struggle to make ends meet… It never failed to make him feel out of place and he wondered why he did that to himself, why he let her convince him to put on the cheap three-pieces suit he rarely took out of the wardrobe, why he didn’t tell her to bring one of the fancy boyfriends he pretended not to know about…

Not that she ever brought one home. He would know, he lived right next to her. And _the kids_ would know since they lived on the other side of her apartment. It would go down their little circle of friends and someone – most likely Jo – would have teased her about it already. No… He didn’t think she ever brought one home, to the bed he found himself in more often than not… But that didn’t mean she didn’t go on dates and he didn’t like that.

His own fault. If he ever got over himself and simply _told_ her casual wasn’t entirely working for him anymore… Well, that wasn’t true. Casual was working _very well_ for him. It was the non-exclusive part he had troubles with. But if he acknowledged _any_ of that out loud everything would change and…

Why did he let himself get roped into this kind of _shit_?, he wondered again, taking another sip of indecently expensive champagne, letting his eyes wander around the room, the people in shiny clothes and the Christmas decorations that made the place look like a classy north pole. 

But then he met her eyes over the crowd and she smiled at him and he suddenly remembered _why_ when his heart squeezed and missed a beat.

It wouldn’t do to let her know, of course, but there was very little he could refuse that smile of hers.

She kept smiling at him, her blue eyes shining bright, distractedly nodding along to whatever her mother was saying. His attention was briefly diverted from her because her mom was behaving even more weirdly than usual. She had her hand on a man’s arm – a _proper_ man, whatever that _shit_ meant: he suspected a Rolex and a golden checkbook – and was steering him toward…

He spotted the mistletoe hanging in the doorway right behind Effie’s head just as she took a step back to escape her mother suddenly invading her personal space. It would take her no more than two other steps to be right under it and…

_That cow_ , he fumed, glaring at Elindra Trinket even as he put his glass down and started making his way toward them in long powerful strides that, he hoped, would get him there fast enough.

In retrospect, he wasn’t sure how he missed the tree.

It was in the middle of the room, huge and adorned in white tinsels and glass trinkets – in complete contrast with Effie’s own tree which was an explosion of colors and glitter – _impossible_ to miss.

Except Haymitch was so focused on reaching Effie before she was forced to peck that guy’s lips – or worse before the guy tried to steal a _real_ kiss – that he completely missed it.

And, as a consequence, caught half of his with his arm.

He felt the tug at his sleeve, automatically moved to the side to see who he had knocked over… He looked just in time to watch the huge towering tree titter on itself, triggering a few alarmed gasps. He tried to right it, of course, and, for a second, it seemed like it would work. The joking quip about not paying attention was already on his lips when the tree, who clearly had a mind of its own, finally decided it was done looking horrible for everyone to gawk at.

It fell in a deafening noise of shattering glass ornaments.

People didn’t gape because it wasn’t polite or whatever but they clucked their tongues in disapproval, a few of them chuckled, most of them whispered ferociously about their host’s youngest daughter’s inadequate boyfriend…

Elindra was glaring at him so hard he was surprised he didn’t catch fire.

He tried to lift the tree back up but ended up making more of a mess so, in the end, he let it rest and shrugged. “Sorry.”

He looked for Effie and found her exactly where he had left her, a hand covering her mouth. He couldn’t tell if it was from horror or amusement, if she wanted to scream at him or laugh. What he _could_ tell was that the guy her mother had been trying to push at her was still standing too close from that mistletoe for comfort so he walked the rest of the way there, very aware that everyone was staring at him, and backed her under the stupid piece of greenery before anyone else could.

Then he kissed her.

Hard and fast and in a way that would make it _very clear_ she wasn’t free for any of those snobby guys to try their luck.

If everyone had been staring before, it was nothing to the gawking when he drew back for air. Unbothered, he shrugged again, burying his hands in his pockets, flashing them a roguish smile.

“Mistletoe.” he said, as if it explained everything.

An old lady in the back corner laughed, breaking the awkward silence. It wasn’t a mocking sort of laugh though, more of a tolerant _‘ah, to be young again’_ laugh and it considerably helped everyone going back to minding their own business. With another glare, Mrs Trinket rushed to get the tree fixed and invited everyone to get another flute of champagne.

“You _do_ know how to leave a lasting impression.” Effie shook her head at him, reaching up to straighten the tie she had forced around his neck earlier. “Honestly, I _cannot_ take you _anywhere_.”

Her tone was fond rather than irritated and he rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “That guy was gonna try and kiss you. I saved you. You’re welcome.”

She pursed her lips to fight another smile. Her eyes were twinkling with mirth. “I was going to make my excuses, you know. I know where _every_ piece of mistletoe is hanging in this house. My mother is not very imaginative, they are always in the same spots.”

He didn’t sulk – or _pout_ , despite what she always claimed, because he _didn’t_ pout – but he suddenly wasn’t so smug. He had liked the idea of saving her from unwelcomed suitors.

“Do you want me to show you where the others are?” she purred, letting her hand trail down his chest. “If you think you can cross a room _without_ knocking down any more trees, that is.”

“Ha, _bloody_ ha, sweetheart!” he scoffed but he still let her slip her hand in his and, when she tugged, he followed.

He wasn’t about to pass on some mistletoe fun.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Please let me know your thoughts!


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